


He Can Explain....

by Lindzzz



Series: The Evil Boyfriends Series [8]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pitch is feeling loopy, Snark, hurt comfort, kind of, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/pseuds/Lindzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pitch manages to piss everyone off in one night.</p><p>(so this one was brought on by an ask on tumblr that said "how would the boys react if the other got hurt?" </p><p>Since we already saw a bit of how Pitch would react in The Intervention, have Jack's reaction.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Can Explain....

_Having a physical form certainly has it’s downsides_ , he thinks as he slams into a wall for about the fifth time that night. Maybe he should just start going everywhere as a shadow and avoid this mess.

 _Jack wouldn’t like that_ , is his next delirious thought. He may have a concussion. Which is ridiculous, he shouldn’t be able to GET concussions.

The golden tendril around his middle lets go and he crumples to the ground with a groan. Pitch lies there for a while, trying to remember if he has bones to break and, if so, how he can go about fixing them right now to make them stop hurting so much.

“I don’t see what your problem is Sandy,” He wheezes. Are his ribs broken? It feels like it but he’s sure he remembers being unable to break anything. Well being unbreakable doesn’t do anything about PAIN it seems. “You have plenty of sand to spare. No need to be selfish.”

It would have been a lot more witty sounding if he was able to stand up and stare down haughtily like he intended to. As it is he just winces when he hears the whip crack above his head.

He manages to get his arms (still working, not broken then) under him and push himself up to see Sanderson bearing down on him from up on his cloud. He really hadn’t expected the Guardians to be paying THAT close attention to what he was doing.

It also may have been a mistake deciding to steal some dream sand without Jack backing him up. But he had a feeling that Jack would not approve of this plan in the first place so the best course of action would be to try and quietly go through with it on his own.

Perhaps not the best idea.

“Sandy, Sandy really.” He manages, trying to sound as nice and placating as possible and not like he’s about to pass out on the spot. “It was just a little sport! The humans turn your dreams into nightmares all the time! I don’t see why I couldn’t join in on the fun!”

He really needs to learn how to NOT TALK. A whip of gold grabs his middle again, flinging him into the air like a rag doll and slamming him down hard enough on the pavement that he swears it cracks under him.

Pitch decides that the best thing to do would be just to lie there for a while, reminding his body that it is not currently a spatter on the ground. Yes, he decides, he’s just going to stay right here, on the pavement, and quietly try not to be broken.

Of course, it’s right when he decides that that Hell, in all it’s frozen glory, breaks loose. The still, quiet night bursts into screaming wind and driving, pounding hail _(most of which is missing him, he’ll have to thank Jack later for that, it’s a wonderful show of control)._

Pitch manages to roll himself over _(he really needs to see this)_ right as Jack arrives with a scream of fury and a blizzard of swirling shards of ice. Sanderson has just enough time to look surprised and throw an umbrella of sand up before he has a wall of wicked icicles flying at him.

Pitch manages a quiet laugh, and Sanderson had been Jack’s FAVORITE _(Jack thinks Pitch doesn’t know, but he does.)_ He then brings his attention back to Jack, who is....absolutely stunning.

He’s crackling with his own power, ice and snow and blue energy surrounding him and his eyes are blazing, blue and hard and beautifully sharp and deadly.

“Have I ever told you that you’re gorgeous?” Pitch manages to croak. “I don’t think I say it enough, you are absolutely breathtaking when you’re angry. Even if you are late.”

Jack whips his head around to glare down at Pitch instead, which is worrisome, but Pitch is too distracted _(and still possibly concussed)_ to be concerned. Jack really is a marvel and Pitch can’t help but laugh because Jack is gorgeous and enraged and it’s for HIM.

Then it goes downhill very quickly.

“Shut up! Don’t you DARE fucking laugh right now or I swear I will shove an icicle through your throat!” Jack had picked up the unfortunate human habit of cursing lately, he knew Pitch didn’t like it and if he was using it anyway things were...bad.

“I can’t, you’re wonderful” Pitch is definitely concussed. “You are also too far away, and I need to kiss you right now.” He manages to hold an arm _(still not broken, excellent)_ out invitingly. “Come here.”

"I am not kissing you Pitch! I'm fighting the urge to just freeze you!"

"I need to know what you taste like when you're angry." Pitch explains. It's very important that he knows. He imagines that Jack currently tastes like ice and iron with a hint of electricity. But he needs to find out for sure.

"Probably like me biting you tongue off!"

Pitch frowns, he's feeling dizzy and Jack is being difficult. "That's not a taste."

He flinches at the blast of cold air that slams into him. "Just SHUT UP while I take care of this!" Jack snaps, before turning sharply and marching over to where Sanderson is eyeing both of them with a frown.

Pitch sulks _(to no avail, Jack isn't paying attention)_ and continues mentally piecing his body back together and making sure everything is accounted for. He can hear snippets of a one sided conversation carried by the wind.

"Of course not, I'm not his keeper! I don't control him!..........I don't care!"

Jack isn't yelling, though it's close. His voice is barely restrained, it's the subtle shift of ice within a glacier, ready to crash into the sea. Pitch focuses on it to distract himself on the pain.

"Look I know!" Jack's voice goes lower, it turns into the dangerous, low rumble before an avalanche. "Yeah? Fine. But if I find something like this again? I'm coming after all of you, Moon be damned. Got it?"

Pitch figures that Sanderson has some response, because he can hear Jack snort and then the soft shifting of sand coming together and flying off. He rolls over onto his back, biting back the sharp groan as his entire body protests. There’s movement to his side and he eyes Jack warily as the boy storms back over to him.

Jack’s rage is a wonderful, glorious thing, but Pitch prefers it not directed at him. Jack is more subdued now though, his face is furrowed in a scowl but Pitch can see the concern worming its way through _(he tries not to look too elated at that, that Jack is worried for him and concerned about him. He has a feeling that Jack would not appreciate it.)_

He keeps quiet as Jack comes up and crouches down next to him, his mouth has gotten him in enough trouble and the world is still spinning anyway.

Jack finally lets out a tense exhale through his nostrils. “Do I want to know why Sandy decided to try to kill you?”

“Probably not.” Pitch admits after a few seconds of thought. “And I doubt he was trying to kill me. He was...sending a message.”

“What message?”

“We established that you don’t want to know.”

Jack laughs, it’s tired and worn out, but real (and much better than the frowning.) “Ah. Right. I forgot about that.”

Pitch pauses, “Are you going to kiss me or not?” Jack isn’t angry anymore, but kissing Jack is it’s own reason anyway. Especially when he’s delirious and in pain.

“No. I’m still mad at you. I’m just too worried to beat the shit out of you.” Jack huffs again, runs a hand over his face while Pitch carefully stays quiet _(it’s difficult, he can FEEL Jack’s fear and gnawing concern for him in the air)_. When Jack looks back at him his face is less harsh, the furrows shifting to worry and tense concern. “Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.”

There’s another laugh, nervous and tired. “Yeah that...that’s good. That’s...good. I’m happy about that. Can you get up?”

“I made the decision a while ago to simply lie here forever being broken.”

“Don’t be a baby you aren’t broken. Come on.” There’s a lot of awkward shuffling about _(and a lot of pained hissing from Pitch)_ , but Jack somehow manages to get most of Pitch’s considerable height _(and, fortunately, inconsiderable weight)_ supported over his shoulders.

They probably look ridiculous, Pitch is nearly twice Jack’s size and still is slouched limply against him while Jack keeps an arm around his middle. They’re defying physics and Pitch starts chuckling to himself when he tries to picture what they look like right now.

“Stop laughing you’re still in trouble.” Jack says as the wind lifts them up. There’s a bit of confusion with limbs again that ends with Jack practically carrying Pitch bridal style and how is Pitch NOT supposed to laugh at what his life has turned into.

“I’m serious now that I know you’ll survive I’m tempted to just toss you down that damn hole you call a front door and leave you there.”

“No you won’t.”

“Watch me.”

Pitch tucks his face against Jacks neck, it’s remarkably cool and he’s quite sure nothing else would feel better right now. “You won’t.”

He can feel the vibrations from Jack’s chuckle working through his throat, pushing against his cheek. 

“Yeah...I probably won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> boys that is not how you hurt/comfort


End file.
